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sebsbarnes · 5 months

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confessions || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.

warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood

word count: 1.1k ; fluff

tangerine masterlist

you jolted awake, "what the hell," you mumbled.

eyes half open you patted around on the bed for your phone. the blaringly bright picture of a sunset staring back at you.

4:07am.

the noise that woke you up sounded again. banging at your front door. carefully you slipped out of bed and opened the drawer to your nightstand, grabbing the gun. slowly, you walked through the house creeping towards the door. the house felt eerily quiet more so than ever. the gun was held behind your back and before you could turn the doorknob you hear a voice.

"it's me."

you opened the door, "why are- jesus christ tangerine."

he smiled weakly at you, sort of shrugging, the suit jacket draped over his arm moving with.

"hey, love," he said dejectedly.

his typically smoothed back hair showed no sign of gel as his curls were a mess. the fitted suit that adorns his body was now loose with blood splattered sporadically on the fabric. the button-down shirt rolled up on his arms exposed his battered forearms. there was dirt on parts of his face, dried blood across his cheek and forehead, and a split lip.

"come in," you whispered, grabbing his hand pulling him in.

you locked the door and turned to the kitchen with tangerine still in tow. you turned the lights on in the kitchen, grabbing him water and pain reliever.

"eat these if you need something. i'm going to grab the first aid kit, alright?" you placed a box of crackers next to him on the counter and retreated to a hallway closet. when you came back, he was munching on a few and the glass of water in his other hand.

"okay now, what's the worst?"

"some prick got me in the thigh with glass," he grimaced gesturing to the torn trousers. you leaned in gently placing your hands on his thigh around the cut.

"take your pants off."

"well, that's quite forward love now, innit?" tangerine chuckled softly.

all you could do was roll your eyes as you turned around giving him a moment to hop off the counter and remove his pants. when you turned back around you couldn't help but swallow harshly at the man's muscular thighs.

"there's still bits of glass in this babes, i'm gonna have to take it out," tangerine hummed in response, clearly tired from whatever job he just came back from.

you grabbed a pair of tweezers and removed small pieces of glass left inside the wound and all tangerine could do was hiss in response. the wound was then cleaned and after tangerine gave you the greenlight, he let you stitch him up.

"now don't go fuckin' around you hear me. that's a good stitch," you said pointing at the finished product.

"yeah whatever darlin'," tangerine retorted.

you moved up to his face to clean the dirt and blood off him. you slid between his legs to get closer, fingertips accidently brushing over his thigh as you grabbed the rag next to him on the counter. you didn't notice the goosebumps that sprang to life on his skin and raced throughout his body. your lips were slightly pursed as the rag glided across his cheeks, wiping away the evidence of an earlier job.

tangerine couldn't help but stare at you during your concentration. the way your eyes danced across his face inspecting every minute detail. your eyelashes- god since when were they that long? he couldn't help the tiny smile that etched its way onto his lips hearing the small whistle your nose made as you breathed in and out. it was something you mentioned in passing that you hated, after your nose was broken on a job. small freckles decorated the bridge of your nose, and a now almost faded scar followed the curve of your cheekbone.

"you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.

you faltered slightly. you and tangerine were friends. any compliments thrown each other's way was typically about work. you often worked with the twins on jobs so the three of you were close. the dynamics on and off the job the three of you had was truly incredible. many people wanted the trio because they knew the job would be a success, most likely bloody, but still successful.

to even try and deny the fact that tangerine is gorgeous was absolutely ridiculous. when you first saw him, you truly went breathless for a moment. there was no way this man was in the business of killing was one of your first thoughts, he had to be a model of some sort. and as if his looks weren't enough, when he wasn't being a complete dickhead, he had the most charming and witty personality. it was intimidating being around him most times, the feeling of insecurity often loomed around you when he was nearby.

you looked him in the eye before averting your attention to his split lip, "why didn't you go home?"

"found myself wandering this way," he said slipping off the counter.

"bit far from your house," you whispered in return. tangerine brushed a strand of hair out of your eye, his thumb running over your cheek.

"no distance is too far for you, darlin'."

you aren't quite sure where these confessions were coming from, but you would be a fool to say you hated it. it was obvious how you felt about tangerine. you knew it, he knew it, lemon knew it, damn near everyone knew it.

"i didn't know you could be a sap," you gave him a slight smirk.

his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "today was too risky, thought i could solo it, make some extra money. it was stupid. all i could think about was you," he confessed.

you toyed with the gold chain hanging on his exposed chest before gently tugging on it, bringing him to you. the kiss was soft but long. in the midst of the kiss tangerine had placed you on the counter, finding home between your legs and holding your waist carefully. your hands situated on the base of his skull tugging ever so slightly on his hair. tangerine's mouth parted slightly in reaction allowing you to bite gently on his lip, ignoring the fact you can taste blood. with a sigh you both finally pulled apart. his hands never left your waist.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you said.

tangerine wasted no time scooping you up in his arms, ignoring all the aches from today's job. 'i've waited months to hear these words,' he had muttered in your hair making his way through your house.

"i've waited just as long."

2K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 2 months

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Blue Bunny

prompt: you and the Twins show up to collect the same debt.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: Tan's real name being Aaron, Lemon's real name being Brian, Mafia antics, depiction of murder, blood, guns, brief physical violence, given nickname, Daddy's Girl trope? dialogue heavy fic.

"I like the lilac, what do you think? Maybe the yellow?"

"The pink's rather nice."

"How's about green? For St. Patrick's Day? Celebration of spring?"

Your lover chuckled over the receiver, phone set on speaker to the desk in front of you. "Think I prefer the blue," he replied, the smirk evident.

"You always prefer blue," you teased, handing the bottle of pale blue nail polish to your nail tech. "So, tell me, where are you now? Haven't seen yah all week," You pouted, placing your AirPods in to keep the conversation private. Not like it mattered, your nail tech, Collette, only spoke French, and she was the only other person in the room.

"'Fraid I can't divulge that information, sweetheart," Aaron sighed, "on a bit of business right now."

"Now? Like, in the present?" You chuckled, nodding at Collette when she pointed at the length of the acrylic.

"Yeah," Tan mused back, "say hello, sweetheart!"

"Hello, luv!" Brian, or otherwise known as Lemon, was heard calling. His twin, your lover, used the codename Tangerine for the contract agency they worked for - keeping their identities safe. Something you didn't necessarily have to worry about, being as your name held power. It was something like a shield in the criminal world, everyone knowing your surname dictated fear.

"Oh, hello, my sweetness," you cooed, grinning slyly. "What's it you two are up to? What sort of business are you on?"

"Ah, hang on a tick, love," Aaron mused, setting his phone down. You waited patiently, hearing a series of gunshots ringing out as you watched Collette paint the pale blue in sleek, professional strokes. Screams echoed over the line, tires screeches, several grunts of exertion, but you didn't so much as flinch, just admiring the work your nail tech did.

You blew on your nails, admiring the color.

Collette asked if you wanted to keep the paint shiny or add a matte overcoat, you humming, replying in French that you preferred the shiny coat. She held up a bottle of silver glitter, perking her brows, watching you nod - trusting her artistic eye.

"Hello? Still there, Bunny?" Aaron got back on the line, using your pet name he bestowed on you after your first date. You had a cold coming on, and after he kissed you, you instantly sneezed - nose screwing up like a fluffy bunny.

"I'm here," you smiled.

"Right, what color did you go with?"

You grinned, "Take a guess."

"Blue's your color."

"More like yours. I much prefer pastels, but I think this color's the best of both our preferences."

He chuckled, "Listen, yeah? You free Thursday? I'l be in your neck of the woods."

"Ah, I'm traveling this week," you answered with a pout, "what about next week?"

"I might be able t'swing that, yeah," Aaron agreed easily. "You hear from that Edward bloke recently?"

"No, no, I've told you, I'm done with him. You're quite the jealous type, you know, scared him off real good."

"Ah, well, don't like folks touchin' what's mine, now, do I?"

"Apparently not," you smiled, phone line beeping with an incoming call. "Oh, shit, I gotta go, Aaron, Daddy's calling."

"Mhm, and we all know you betta answer, huh?"

"It's how we all stay alive," you laughed. "Bye."

"See yah real soon, Bunny. Make sure your toes match!"

You hung up with a laugh, then accepted your father's incoming call, "Hi, Daddy."

"Hello, sweet one," he answered. "What are you up to?"

"Collette's doing my nails."

"Ah, very good. What color?"

"A pretty pale blue."

"Wonderful. Tell Collette I say hello. We'll have t'get her a sensational Christmas bonus with the way you work her."

You chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Listen, poppet, I need you to do something for me."

"Mhm, anything you need, Daddy."

"One of our associates is late on payment."

"How late?"

"A week."

"Oh, you're taking time in collecting," you mused, appreciating the full set Collette was detailing. "What's the hold up? Why wait?"

"I'm stuck in Prague."

"Daddy."

"I know," he rushed, "but I need you on this one, princess."

"Who's the associate?"

"Fella name Wilmer DeLano."

"I know of him, doesn't he own the chain of pharmacies? His son and I went to university together, right?"

"The exact same," your father confirmed. "I need you to go collect, princess, please."

"How much is the debt?"

"With the added week, chalks it up to $3 million."

"US dollars?"

"Yeah."

"Since when do we deal in US dollars?" You asked with a curled lip.

"Not the question I think you want to be asking."

"Uh, no, you're right, okay, sure, I can collect. Tonight?"

"He's not expecting it, knows I'm still in Prague. Take Rufus and Gunther with you for protection detail."

"I'd rather take Samuel."

"No, he's doing a different favor for me."

"Daddy."

"He's making a delivery, all right?"

"What about Gunther and Casey? Rufus creeps me out."

"That's fine," your father agreed with a sigh. "Listen, princess, tonight might get a little hairy, so I want you prepared."

"Daddy, I'm literally getting my nails done, I'm not handling a gun. That's what Gunther's for."

"I taught you better than that. You protect yourself, you can't depend on anyone else."

You nodded, "Yes, sir. Do you wanna call the boys or...?"

"I'll call them, don't worry. Just be ready to go by 8. Remember, princess, $3 million - and make sure you count it, too."

You agreed, promising you loved him, then wishing him luck in Prague on whatever his business was. After hanging up, Collette smiled, asking in French, "When are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"That you have a boyfriend," she laughed. "He's your father, he'll be happy for you."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, please," she scoffed, swiping the glitter on your nails. "That boy that you're always on the phone with? You're not hiding it, not from me."

You felt warmth flush your chest, heating your core. "He's still not my boyfriend," you mumbled stubbornly.

"He picks your nail colors," she grinned, "that's a boyfriend!"

You double checked the address your father sent, nodding at Gunther in the driver's seat. "All right, lads, I want this a clean collection. Just got my nails done," you smirked, the lights of the three-story home still on and indicating DeLano must've been home.

"Yes, ma'am," Casey agreed, getting out of the backseat and opening your passenger door; helping you out, letting you readjust your clingy black dress. Gunther moved around the back of the car, grabbing the usual go-bag brought to every collection.

Slowly, carefully, you stalked up the long driveway, heels clacking with every pace. You let Gunther peer through the windows, him nodding before leading the way to the backdoor. It was simple enough to jimmy the lock open, silently swinging the door wide open and stepping over the threshold.

Casey went around the side to enter through the living room as you walked through the kitchen, surrounding your target. Wilmer DeLano was sat at his dining room table with his wife, looking up when you cleared your throat. He jolted in shock, but Casey blocked the only other doorway; his gun in hand, both clasped in front of him.

Gunther checked the rest of the house.

"Hello, Mr. DeLano," you greeted casually. "Oh, something smells wonderful in here, you cook this?" You asked his wife, casually strolling up to the table, Red Bottoms sounding over the polish hardwood floors. You plucked up a slice of roast, tearing a bite off and humming, "Oh, very good that. You're a lucky man, Mr. DeLano to have such a talented wife."

"Who are you?" The portly woman begged, flinching when you hummed and brandished your gun.

"Right, guessing you don't know," you nodded. "Your husband's in a bit of a lucrative business, Missus. Nice house, though," you gazed around, "lot of fine art you've got hung up, saw all name-brand appliances in your kitchen."

"H-He owns a chain of drug stores - "

"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Very true," you agreed, "but that's only a front, it's not the full picture. I'm here to help illustrate, if you will. C'mon, why don't we all go into the living room? Hear that's where the safe is kept."

"What is happening!?" Mrs. DeLano demanded, gun pointed at her temple.

"Up, up," you demanded.

Slowly, Wilmer lifted from his seat with his hands held in peace, "Okay, okay, we can - let's go talk in the living room. Just don't threaten my wife, she's got nothing t'do with this."

"For now," you agreed, gathering the couple to the living room couch.

"Boss," Gunther alerted, dragging your old university classmate and a previous lover, Edward DeLano, up from the basement, "found this one down there, smoking a joint. Rest of the house is clear."

"Wonderful," you nodded, gesturing for Eddie to sit. "You bring enough to share with the class?" But your old peer just looked around the room of criminals. "Guessin' he didn't wanna share," you pouted, then rolling your eyes. "Well, now that we've all gathered - "

Suddenly, there was a noisy crack and bang as the front door was kicked in, making all three of you gangsters turn with weapons drawn and aimed. However, you chuckled and dropped your arm when you realized it was the Twins, Aaron and Brian, or Tangerine and Lemon, standing in the splintered doorway.

"At ease, lads," you chuckled, holstering your gun to your thigh. "These are friends of mine."

"You outsourced the job? Out your fuckin' mind, princess? Huh?" Casey growled, not lowering his gun as Tan and Lem strolled in.

"Don't fuckin' talk to her like that," Aaron snapped instantly.

"Fuck off, Casey, I would never outsource, I know the fucking rules," you sound more amused than anything.

"Well, ain't this fun?" Aaron mused with a grin, strolling in casually before pausing in the open foyer as Brian tried shutting the door again - but it the very doorframe was shattered, making it impossible. "Sorry 'bout the front door, ol' chap, but you understand, yeah? 'S just business," He nodded at DeLano. "Bunny," he smirked at you, hands in his tailored suit pants pockets; polished Italian leather shoes gently scoffing across the floor.

Aaron magnetized to your side, coiling his arm around your waist to lean in and peck your cheek.

"Hi, handsome. Thought you weren't in town until later?"

"We wrapped a different job early," he answered. "Question is: what're you doin' here, love?"

"Collecting debt payment."

"No shit," he grinned, "so are we."

Your head cocked; leaning into his side with your own arm wrapping around his chiseled waist. You asked, "He owes my father money. You?"

"Owes an associate, too." He smirked at the DeLano's you two stood in front of, "Ain't that right, geezer? Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, didn't yah? Got a bit of a problem with the nose candy, don't'cha, naughty boy?"

"You told me you quit!" Mrs. DeLano hissed, "now you're in debt!?"

"I have it under control," Wilmer deflected stiffly.

His wife sobbed and begged, "W-Would someone please just explain what's going on!? Who are you people!?" Tears fell fast. "What do you want from us!?"

"This ain't rocket science, love, fuck you mean what do we want?" Lemon snickered. "You not listenin' or something?"

"Ah, right, well, I was in the middle of explainin' the situation," you told the Twins, waving a manicured hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "'Ello, lovie," you grinned at Lemon when he stationed himself on your other side, "good t'see you."

"Sweetheart," he nodded, offering a side hug when you released his brother, "been too long, hasn't it?"

"Since Cancún," you agreed. "Right, then! Onward, ho! Casey, darlin', would you be a doll and open the bag? Get us set up t'count up?"

"'Course, boss," he agreed, kneeling at the mahogany coffee table and unzipping the duffel you brought.

"Right," your hands clapped, the family jumping at the sudden sound, "back to what I was sayin'. See, your husband owns the drug stores, that's true," you allotted, "but he also launders money for the Mafia. For my father, my family. Maybe you've heard of him?"

You relaid your father's first and last name, seeing the Fear of God paint over the DeLano's. "What?" Eddie snapped at his father sat beside him. See, despite dating briefly, you kept your identity a secret from Ed. "What have you done!? Do you know who her father is? Know what he's done!? He fuckin' gutted his own brother - "

"Allegedly," you interjected sharply.

" - all in the name of business! You don't know what this family is capable of!"

"Yes, boy, I'm well aware, the man is my bloody business partner," Wilmer snapped right back.

"Well, not so much of a partner now, are yah? Just more of a fuckin' nuisance," You smirked, earning the attention again. "So, you see, your husband washes our money, earns a significant cut for shouldering the risk. Payment's collected every two weeks and as of today, your husband's a week late on delivering our cash load."

"I-I can explain, please - "

"No need," you cut Wilmer off, "because I didn't get t'where I am now by listening to pathetic explanations. I don't listen to excuses. Fact is, you own my father money, and because you're late, the total is now $3 million - and he wants it in US dollars."

"Well, ain't that somethin'?" Tan smirked at Lem. "Turns out, he owes our client some million, too."

You hummed, nodding, "Right, right, but see, thing is, if my Daddy ain't paid, he goes postal. Nasty business, truly messy, just a chaotic clusterfuck, bodies left everywhere, cities in shambles." Turning back to the family, you offered, "So, we're just gonna make this easy. You cough up what you owe, we won't blow your brains out all over this nice Persian rug. Mmmh! See that, love?" You pointed to the fabric you stood on, looking at Aaron. "That's real authentic, you can tell by the threading. Be a shame to ruin it, yeah? Exquisite work."

"Sure is," he agreed, "but did you see up there, Bunny? 'Bove the mantel?"

"Oh, yes," you breathed in impression, "an ancient Aztec tribal mask. An artifact, very hard to get your hands on. Heard the British Museum was actually lookin' for that particular mask."

"Seems like Mr. DeLano is quite the collector of finer things," Lemon admired, pointing at a portrait on the wall. "Oi! Is that what I think? Is that a fucking Monet?"

"Priceless," you nodded.

"Listen, right, we've got strict orders, yeah?" Your lover sighed, shifting his weight. "We're t'collect payment by any means, a message is t'be sent. Right?"

"That's right, yeah," Lemon agreed, crossing his arms. "Make sure this kinda misunderstanding don't happen again."

Gunther asked, "You need tarps for this?"

You refused, "No, we're not here to kill anyone. We're here to let a loyal man the opportunity to pay us what's owed."

"Listen t-t-to me," Wilmer begged, stuttering in fear, "I don't have the money. Okay? The government came sniffin', I had tax liens to pay off to avoid prison time - "

"More fuckin' excuses! Jesus, fuck, man!" You groaned. "Who do you think can do more damage - the bloody government or my family? Huh? Look, lad, I know you've got what we're owed, so, be a good li'l boy and open the safe. Huh?"

"Fucking do it, Dad!"

"What're you doing, Wilmer? What are you waiting for!? You can't play this game! You'll get us all killed!"

"I don't have the money! How can I pay with what I don't have!?"

"Why do I not believe that?" You mused to Tan.

"'Cause you've been in this business a helluva lot longer than he has," Tangerine / Aaron answered. "You know a rat when you smell one, I reckon."

You nodded, then pulled your gun out again, aiming, and firing at Eddie's knee to shatter his kneecap. Blood splattered onto the couch. He screamed in agony, you raging above the panicked cries and shocked shouts, "Do I have your fucking attention now, Mr. DeLano?"

Edward sobbed in pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, Mrs. Delano gasping and shrieking. "Do whatever they want, Wilmer! For fuck's sake! Just do it!"

"Listen to your wife, mate," Lemon advised. "Unhappy wife, unhappy life, innit?"

You aimed at Eddie's other knee, firing, causing another flurry of screaming, crying, and begging. "If you want your son t'only have two bullets in 'im, I suggest you get moving!" You barked, aiming at Wilmer. "Now!"

"Well, wait a tick," Tangerine halted, "if we're both on the job, how's it gonna look if the geezer's telling us the truth, hey? Who gets the money?"

"Let's find it first, darlin', distribute later," you breathed as Casey finished setting up the automatic money counter. "Mr. DeLano? I advise you to do what we're asking. See, I use to duck hunt - I'm an excellent shot. The next bullet's goin' in your son's head and I never miss. Now, where's the fucking money!?"

"I don't have it! Please!"

"The money, DeLano, where's the fucking money!?"

"Please - "

"You want a dead son!?"

"All right!" He sobbed, "All right, fine! Yes, you win! Just please, please! Don't hurt my family anymore! Please, just leave them alone! I'll do what you want, just - leave them out of this!"

You nodded, "Well, you fucked with my Daddy's money. Only right I cripple you in a sense. Hey? Now, chop chop," you checked your watch for the time, "I'm a very busy bee and don't have all night."

"You're a smart lad, DeLano, we know you would've wanted to prep for a comfy fall if it came to it," Lemon laughed easily from beside you. "Ain't no way you're bone dry, know you have money stashed for security. Just c'mon, mate, these two sickos consider this a sort of foreplay, they'll go all fuckin' night with yah if you continue to refuse," he gestured at you and Tan.

You tacked on, "Lotta places to shoot someone without killin' 'em. Just saying..."

Wilmer stood from the couch, his wife shooting across the newly vacated space to embrace her whimpering son. The money launderer approached the Monet painting and lifted it from the wall; revealing an iron safe. You shared a look with Tangerine, smirking as the combination was entered and the door opening.

"That's what we fuckin' thought," Tangerine sneered, seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of money. " Fuckin' hell. Right, so, look, count up the lady first. We'll settle after," he sniffed, fluffing his suit's lapel, picking off a piece of lint.

Wilmer began handing stacks to Casey to count, one of your arms crossing over your stomach to prop up your other arm; hand limp in the air. "Faster," you demanded, the man sweating bullets.

"Oh, now, look at that," Tan mused, taking your hand to admire your fresh manicure, "you went with blue."

"Like it?"

"Looks real pretty, Bunny, but I know something these would look better wrapped around," he grinned, making you smack his stomach playfully. "You wanna go get drinks afta this? My treat."

"Sounds like a date," you accepted, Gunther storing the counted cash into the dark duffel. "How's it lookin', Casey?"

"Looks 'bout right, boss," he reported, handing over another stack of banded money. "You want me t'count the Twins up?"

"Oh, if you would please, darlin', it would be very helpful," you nodded. "But I'm having a thought, right? Stay with me, would yah?"

"Oh, go on, toots, you've got great ideas," Lemon encouraged with a chuckle.

"Not always," Casey snickered, "remember what happened in Texas? At that Western bar?"

"Oi, the electronic bull was not my fault!"

"But the incident with the tequila and donkey was!"

"Hush!" You scolded. "Listen, all right, you see, this fucker tried to stiff us all... Let's clear the safe out. Take away any safety net? Truly cripple him, set him back to nothing?"

"Sound like your father," Gunther chuckled.

"That's a compliment," you shot back. "Go on, I want the lot."

Gunther agreed, standing, and approaching the safe. He shoved Wilmer out of the way, sweeping his arm into the safe and starting to load up the duffel. "You can't do this! If you take it all, what are we supposed to do!? How is my family supposed to survive when leeches like you suck us dry!?" Wilmer barked, making the amusement drop from your face.

"Watch your tone."

"No! No, I will not! You think you're high and mighty because of your father, but you're just a spoilt little girl! You all break into my house, extort me - "

"Can you truly extort a criminal? For the money they owe other criminals?" Brian / Lemon wondered out loud as he meandered the living room, making you shrug.

"He likes playing victim," you mused, but in the time you looked over your shoulder, Wilmer charged. You gasped when his shoulder bullied into your gut, tackling you past Tangerine and into the coffee table, shattering it.

"GO! RUN!" He shouted at his family, Tangerine lunging instantly to wrangle him off of you; the breath knocked from your lungs.

"Got some fuckin' nerve, don't yah!? Touchin' my girl!?" He raged, throwing the man to the floor again. "Nobody fuckin' moves!" Aaron growled, gun pointed at Wilmer.

"Not like they can, two blown out knees," Brian grunted as he helped pick you up from the wreck.

"Yeh all right, Bunny?"

"All right, love, yeah," you answered and adjusted your dress, picking up your weapon as Tan began wailing his balled-up fist into Wilmer's face at a jackhammering pace. It was wildly attractive, watching the man you were in-love with beat the shit out of someone who offered you threat and harm. Then something caught your eye, gasping, "Oh, you rat bastard! You broke my fucking nail!"

You yanked Tan back; aiming at Wilmer, pulling the trigger to let a close-range bullet explode the man's head; leaking brain matter on the Persian carpet. You turned to Mrs. DeLano and Eddie, cocking your head as they begged and pleaded for their lives, but you weren't listening anymore. "Got it all, boss," Gunther informed, dropping the stuffed duffel. "What we doin' with them?"

"Exactly what my father would do," you decided. "No witnesses."

"PLEASE! NO, GOD! NO, DON'T, PLEASE! WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I SWEAR! PLEASE! MERCY! MERCY MERCY!"

Three more gunshots sounded, Tangerine's gun smoking before being tucked back into his shoulder holster under his jacket. "Well," he fluffed his lapels again, sniffling harshly, "shall we be on our way, Bunny? We good here?"

"Oh, might as well - got what we needed," you agreed, grimacing when blood bloomed towards your expensive shoes. "Ugh, what a mess. I'll make a call, have this cleaned up, pose it as a murder-suicide," you side-stepped the puddle. "Gunther, Casey, take what you want from this place, get the cash back to the stash house. I'm gonna grab a drink with the lads," you smirked, looping your arm with Aaron's.

Lemon / Brian packed up their share of the money, following behind as Tangerine / Aaron lead you from the house; placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, inhaling, tossing his free arm around your neck. The night was dark and brisk, refreshing on your clammy skin as you stabilized your breathing; always a little shaken after taking life.

Call it morality.

Once in their tinted Mercedes, Brian got in the backseat, Tan rolled his window down to smoke, and you pulled out your ringing cell phone to answer, "Hi, Daddy."

He breathed in relief, "Good, you answered. Means nothing bad happened."

"That's not entirely true," you admitted. "We're leaving now."

"What happened?"

You winced, brushes already forming, "DeLano got bold, he attacked. So we left no witnesses."

"Good girl," he praised. "You feel all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm actually going to drinks with some, uh, friends," you glanced at Tangerine - seeing his lips pulled in a smirk as he started the car and pulled off down the street. "Turns out, DeLano didn't just owe us, but some coke dealer, too. Right, love?" You checked.

"Right," Aaron confirmed, reaching over to plant his hand on your thigh and give a soft squeeze.

"Right, yeah, so, he tried lying 'bout money, I shot his son's kneecaps - "

"That's my girl!"

" - and cleared the safe out. That's when DeLano attacked me - "

"WHAT!?"

"Daddy," you reprimanded softly. "I'm okay. Actually, the hired contractors on the job saved my arse - they showed up after we did with the same agenda. Gunther and Casey are gonna take the cash to a stash house, I gotta call Mr. Brooks about cleaning up."

"Did you say contractors?"

"Yeah, uh, you know, from The Agency?"

"You mean hitmen?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Think they're more like contract killers? Verbiage is so fickle."

"Who? Who exactly was there?"

"The Twins, Daddy. Don't worry, they're absolutely charming, only took their payment. We're gonna go for drinks, yeah?"

"Huh," he grunted, "must've been some bigwig t'send them two. Or a considerable debt." You were about to reply when he gasped in realization, "Wait, no. No, no, hang on a tick, don't bloody tell me."

"What?"

"This the lad you've got a thing for, innit? The one that sends yah flowers every other week?"

"Daddy."

"Don't tell me it's that Tangerine fucker, princess, please!"

"Oh, no, look at that, we're heading into a tunnel! I'm gonna lose the call; talk tomorrow, be safe, good luck in Prague, okay, muah! Muah! Muah! Love you! Bye, bye, bye!" You rambled quickly, blowing air kisses, then hanging up swiftly.

"The hell was that about?" Aaron chuckled. "He mad we were there?"

"Not entirely."

"Was he mad you're gettin' drinks with us?" Brian laughed from the back.

"That's a little more accurate. Well," you winced, "he was a bit testy that I'm goin' with Aaron..."

"I haven't done a damn thing to him," he grumbled.

"You do have a bit of a reputation, bruv."

You smiled sweetly, gripping Aaron's hand on your thigh, "He's my father, 'course he's gonna worry."

"'Bout time he found out, keeping you two a secret was mad frustrating, yeah? You two are disgustingly in-love."

Tangerine squeezed your thigh again, sending you a bright grin, "That we are."

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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fookinfandoms · 2 years

Text

all in a days work

pairing: tangerine x female spy! reader

plot: The twins have been hired for a high risk job, unbeknownst to them that they weren’t the only ones. You just happened to be first.

authors note: i’m really writing something for a mf named TANGERINE. but I loved the movie and I loved his character. Mwah. Let me know if this is too ooc! I love feedback!

Not edited.

3.2k words

PART TWO HERE

warnings: no smut in this one, potentially part two. language, mentions of blood, violence, they’re assassins idk what you expect tbh, you both fight each other :)

“Did you seriously knock my brother out with a fryin’ pan?” Tangerine yells out, stopping you in your tracks. The lights of the kitchen flickered on and off, loud music bouncing off the walls from the club outside.

Lemon lay unconscious behind a counter, his head now sporting a rather nasty mark. Tangerine stood near the exit, one hand on his gun and the other holding a hard drive. His eyebrows were furrowed as glanced between you and his brother.

Your head tilts to the side as you shrug. “He had a gun and I didn’t, I think he got off easy.”

The gears turn in his head, wondering whether or not you were worth the effort. He waves his gun in your direction. “What’s this then?”

“Just another obstacle in the way,” You haven’t moved an inch, taking the time to plan your next move. You haven’t fought the twins before, but they were famous in the industry. Messy, yes, but they got shit done. “I’m going to need that hard drive however, and it would be a shame to put a mark on such a pretty face.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He retorts, shoving the small device into his coat pocket. “Feelings mutual, but I’ve got the gun darling, and it seems like you’re all out of frying pans.”

Frustration crawls over your skin, and he smirks, believing he had you cornered. Tangerine can see your eyes glancing between him and the door behind him, and he almost considered letting you leave, albeit empty handed, until he remembered his brother on the floor.

“You know,” He really thought thought he had the upper hand on you. “I’ve heard of you two before, the fruity twins and I-“

“Fruity twins? Are you having a laugh?” He interrupts, and it was your turn to smirk as he glares. “Fuckin' fruity twins?” “I mean, you are Tangerine and Lemon right?” You retort, pointing at his brother. “I’ve heard a lot about you two, Bolivia yeah? Hard stuff that, left quite a name for yourselves. Fruity names however, but names nonetheless.”

“You think you’re funny don’t you?” He hisses, his finger itching to pull the trigger a little more than before. “Who even are you?”

One more minute.

The muscle in his jaw ticks as you shrug again. “I think I’m pretty funny, I mean… I did just take down a fully grown man with a skillet, that’s a story for the grandkids don’t you think?”

“That didn’t answer my question, who are you and why do you want this?” He pats his coat pocket, a reminder he and his brother had gotten to the intel before you.

“Angel,” You told him truthfully, watching as his eyebrow raises at the admission. “And I was hired, just like you.”

“Fitting name,” What a cruel punishment the universe has bestowed upon you. A gorgeous man with an accent flirting like it was his second language - with a gun aimed at between your eyes. “How much?”

You swallow and look around him quickly. “One million.”

“Christ, one million? We were offered half of that! Who fuckin’ hired you and off-“ Tangerine wasn’t able to finish his sentence as a loud bang swallowed you both. Dust and small pieces of the ceiling fell around, filling the air as multiple little bombs went off in unison through the building.

There was the back up plan. They weren’t big enough to kill anyone, rather stun. A last resort in case you had been caught up.

Tangerine drops his gun as he covers his head in an attempt to hide from the debris, and you quickly take the time to kick the piece of metal away from him as your other leg rises and knees him in the side. He grunts, and as your leg raises for another kick, Tangerine pounces forward, grabbing your waist roughly and uses his weight to push you into a counter behind.

You head is knocked back at the impact, and before the man in front of you can move you’re already throwing your elbow at his cheek. He curses, baring his teeth like a wild animal as he blocks another hit thrown his way. Pushing yourself off the cool metal, he holds his hands up in defence, shaking his head as you await his next move.

“I really don’t want to do this.” He grunts out, his hair sticking in all directions.

“So you could shoot me but a fist fight is off the table?” You push away the stray hair that had fallen out of its up-do, a laugh leaving your lips. “How noble.”

“I’m giving you an opportunity to leave here with your life,” He steps to the side with a smile, the exit behind him looking better than ever. “I have what I need, don’t need to add to the body count.”

Tangerine again pats at his coat pocket, but his smile slowly disappears as he feels nothing. His hand slides in, and he immediately begins patting at all possible pockets on his person. “What the fuck.”

“This?” You hold up the hard drive, wiggling it around before sliding it into the safety of your bra. “You’re not that bright are you?”

He sighs before turning his gaze to the roof, shaking his head with a string of curses. “Something tells me you like the idea of being thrown around love,” Tangerine slides off his coat and throws the material to the ground, rolling up his sleeves as you grin. “A little too much.”

You jerk your chin at him with a chuckle. “I do love a good tussle.”

Tangerine pounces and you’re already sliding out of the way, grabbing at a loose wine glass and throwing it at his head. The glass shatters and a grunt escapes him as the shards dance around him, but he doesn’t have time to register as you’re swinging your knee into his stomach again - the same spot as before. His muscles tense at the pain in his body, and he throws a punch, getting you in the collarbone. You stumble back at the force, but another grin grows realising he wasn’t holding back.

He raises his arm to swing again, but using the counter as leverage, you lean backwards, letting your legs wrap around his upper half and twisting - sending the larger man to the ground. He slides beside his brother as you catch yourself, kneeling beside him. His eyes widen at the sudden action, and you’re already raising your fist when he moves his head, dodging the blow.

Your fist hits Lemon, and you release a little gasp at the mistake. He doesn’t budge however, still knocked out by the frying pan from before. Tangerine uses his long leg to kick you away from him, rolling onto his belly as he notices his gun hiding under a grill. He reaches for it, but you’re quicker than him - throwing yet another glass his way as his covers his head.

“Stop throwing fuckin’ glasses!” He shouts, dodging another.

“I have a whole set here,” You reply, reaching for the fine dining ware, as he uses his sleeve to push the shattered pieces from his skin. “Stop reaching for your gun!”

Tangerine swears again, slowly getting up off the ground. His shirt was rather torn up from your assault, but your dress wasn’t looking any better. Had the two of you not been currently trying to kill each other, the man might’ve offered to take you home. “Just give me the damn USB, we’re the ones who actually worked for it.”

You laugh at him, your red lips curling in a snarl. “Only because I cleared the office for you, don’t you think the place was rather empty all things considered?”

Lemon was actually the one who noticed the place had a lack of security, but the two didn’t want to push their luck. The intel was easy to grab, who would complain?

You nodded at him, watching the realisation hit him. “Yeah, dumbass - I did that. You didn’t check the closet did you? Whole bunch of dead guys, thanks to me.”

He scoffs, propping his hands onto his hips. “Bullshit, why didn’t you just grab the shit and go then?”

“I was busy setting up my backup plan, I didn’t know the job was handed off to others.” You raised your hands in frustration. It wasn’t uncommon for gigs to be palmed off to others, but that was usually involving a human target, not intel.

“Yeah well, seems we both got fucked love,” He says, wincing at the pain in his side. “You’ve got a mean kick to you, you know that?”

“No one usually lives long enough to say anything.” A long silence ensues and you eye the man in front of you wearily, praying to whoever that his brother doesn’t wake up anytime soon. He gestures to your chest, your eyebrow raised at the action.

“One more chance, just hand it over and you can leave.”

You shake your head. “No can do.”

Just like before, he launches. His movements were well calculated, you’ll give him that - but your smaller size compared to his larger one was a good advantage. The two of you fought for a little longer, both refusing to back down. He got in a few good hits, but you had managed some that would leave more marks. Having had enough of you punching his kidneys over and over, Tangerine wounds his arms around your waist, throwing you onto the counter.

Your thighs wrap around him as you slide to the side, bringing his head down to smack his forehead against the steel surface. He looses his balance, and you turn around onto your belly in an attempt to slide to the other side. Tangerine grabs at your leg however, sliding you back towards him.

Your nails try to grip onto the slick surface, hoping to grab something but you’re already being turned onto your back - his large hands holding down your wrists, his lower half keeping you pinned.

His skin was flushed red with small cuts here and there, but you were sure you weren’t exactly far off. He stares down at you with a bewildered expression. “Did you,” He huffs out, grimacing as his muscles tense at the pain bursting through his body. “Did you plant fuckin’ bombs everywhere?”

“Guilty.” You replied, your breath coming out laboured in an attempt to catch it.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, both in an attempt to get in a full breath of air. Tangerine stares down at your cleavage, your breasts rising and falling quickly as you wince in pain. The hard drive was quite literally in arms reach, but he knew better than to let go and give you a free hand.

“How we doing this darling?” He says, chuckling as he nods towards your chest. “Am I reaching in there or are you?”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” You reply, feeling him push against you a little harder. “Is that- Are you? I really hope that’s another gun in your pants.”

“It’s not,” Tangerine looks down towards his pants before back to you, shrugging. “You’re not the only one who loves being thrown around.”

“You got me the-“

“Angel? Angel can you hear me?” A voice fills your right ear, a beeping following suit. You gasp, ignoring Tangerines expression as you hear your handlers voice for the first time in hours. The connection in this place was the worst, and you had gone in on the job completely blind. You would have forgotten about your earpiece had he not said anything.

“Xan!” You speak aloud, the man currently pinning you to a counter looking around for another person. “It’s my handler, sh.”

“Oh I’m sorry darlin’, is this a bad time right now?” He rolls his eyes at you, almost in shock at the woman below him. Is she really on call right now?

“I’ll explain later, but you got about ten ravens, coming your way,” Xan was worried, that much you could tell. “You’ve got less than a minute.”

That wasn’t nearly enough time to get Tangerine off of you and out the exit. The Englishman stares, watching your expression go from shocked, to your eyebrows furrowing. You look around for anything and then tilt your head back, staring down at the door where the bad guys will soon be entering.

Fair enough, you begin to hear heavy footsteps coming your way, and Tangerine looks up at the other doors, having heard them too. His weight feels a little less heavy against your thighs, but his hands still grip at your wrists.

There just wasn’t any time.

“You’re not married are you?” You ask, using the distraction to slide your thighs beside his waist, sliding your calves up behind his lower back and locking your heels behind him.

He mumbles a little huh before shaking his head. Great.

With your legs locked behind him, you pull him down on top of you, bringing his lips to yours. His mouth was searing hot, and his eyes were wide at first in shock before he melted into the kiss. Tangerine’s hands leave your wrists, one hand gripping at your waist as the other holds himself up. The kiss was heavy and hungry, and your now free hand fisted at his ripped shirt in an attempt to draw him closer.

The hairs above his lip tickle at you, an almost funny feeling. To stop yourself from commenting on his facial hair, you bite at his lip. He groans against your skin, and his tongue was just about to sneak past your lips when the doors barge open, causing the gun for hire to seperate from you.

You whine at the loss of his touch, half of you playing the part, the other genuinely missing the feeling. Hiding yourself in his shoulder, Tangerine brings one hand behind your upper back, shielding you from the men who had just entered the room.

“Can we fuckin’ help you?” He yells at them, glaring at their amused expressions. You both sent silent prayers they didn’t enter the room any further, their guns would no doubt be out and proud if they spotted Lemon on the floor behind you. “Can’t a man get some privacy?”

One of your hands laid against his pec as you titled your head towards him, feigning embarrassment. “Baby,” You kissed at his neck before bringing your head near his ear. “Can we go somewhere more private? I don’t like an audience.”

Tangerine swallows the urge to groan. “Seriously gentlemen, you’re scaring my lady here.”

The men say something, but you don’t speak French, and clearly neither does Tangerine - but what he said works, and they slowly but surely leave after scanning the kitchen, seeing it was relatively empty apart from you two horn dogs.

Once the doors close behind them, you both visibly relax, Tangerine’s shoulders dropping as he releases a breath he was holding. You’re sitting up, your legs still wrapped around him with your chest pressed against his. “How did you know that would work?” He asks, amazed and feeling rather warm at your quick thinking.

“Public displays of affection, they always make people uncomfortable.” Tangerine scoffs at this, his hands resting on your waist.

“Affection? You were grindin’ into me like your life depended on it.”

You gasp at him. “I think you were the one humping me like a dog, and don’t get me started on that caterpillar above your lip tickling me!”

He chuckles loudly at you. “Ladies love the ‘caterpillar’ darling, never had any complaints.”

Someone groans from behind the two of you, and your attention turns to the twin on the floor. Lemon was slowly waking up, and Tangerine immediately lets you go, rushing to be beside his brother as he comes to.

You felt almost guilty, having been the one to knock him out and punch him - albeit accidentally. Tangerine leans down, clicking his fingers in his brothers face.

“Angel, you have a clear exit straight ahead,” Xan speaks through the earpiece yet again, confused by your location having not moved. “What… What are you doing with a frying pan?”

Again, you almost felt guilty, but you couldn’t afford to have the two of them come after you.

“I’m really sorry for this,” You say, and as Tangerine turns to look at you, you’ve already swung, letting the metal connect with his head. “Seriously, really sorry.” You were hoping not to use as much force as before, wanting to slow him down rather than knock him out cold.

He falls over, landing on top of his brother. Loud groans leave the two of them, Lemon feeling the weight of his brother and Tangerine now kissing the floor. Yeah, it was too hard.

You climb over the two of them, leaning down to pull Tangerine off of the other man and laying him upright. His eyes roll into the back of his head as pain vibrates in his skull, and he doesn’t notice as you reach for his phone in his other pocket.

“W-What,” he mumbles, his vision blurry. “What are you doin’?”

“Giving you my number,” You tell him nonchalantly. “Give me a call when you’re no longer pissed off yeah?”

He wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly, and by the time his eyes have focused - you’re gone, and he was ready to fall asleep - and he did.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been knocked out for, but it was definitely less than Lemon. Your heels were left behind and his phone was left beside him, the device pinging with a text from an unknown number with an angel emoji.

Tangerine sits upright with a wince, noticing Lemon holding a bag of frozen pees against his head. His brother throws a spare bag of frozen carrots at him, and he catches it, copying his actions “You want to tell me what the fuck happened in 'ere?”

The man on the floor sighs, knowing you had run off with the hard drive. “She got away with the intel.”

“No shit,” Lemon pushes the pees closer to the bump on his head. “I’m just surprised she kept us alive.”

This intrigued him. He knew of you? “You know Angel?”

“You don’t read anything I give you do you?” He mutters something along the lines of idiot and typical Diesel. “She was in the files I gave you last week, she’s good, real good.”

“She kissed me.” Tangerine replies, ignoring the digs made at his lack of awareness.

“And?” He retorts, not following along. Lemon had read your file in great detail. You were skilled and a quick thinker, so it didn’t shock him that you had the upper hand on his brother.

“And I think I’m in love.” Tangerine stares down at his phone, the angel emoji staring back at him.

“Oh fuck off you are.”

#tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x oc #tangerine fic #bullet train #fookinfandoms

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thepoisonjackal · 4 months

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Tangerine is quite flirty, so right when the two met he was starting to show a bit of interest in Cluttermind. Cluttermind is pretty anxious and isn't used to being flirted with (or being treated nicely in general) so he isn't really sure if Tangerine is actually into him or just flirting because he's like that. He isn't uncomfortable really but very easily flustered and unsure where the relationship is going. He's probably a little too distracted by his thoughts and goals to really give much serious thought into pursuing a relationship. Tangerine himself is more intrigued than anything by Cluttermind, thinks he's kinda cute and awkward and he's interested in his mystery. Tangerine's pretty vain, and at the start of their relationship he doesn't love anyone more than he loves himself. He slowly learns to respect others more and that gives way to a more genuine affection. It's definitely a slow burn, though.

#wings of fire #wof #rainwing #nightwing #dragon #oc #original character #art #my ocs #oc: tangerine #oc: cluttermind

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businesscatfelix · 1 year

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me designing myself a fursona after a two year hiatus: i am going to make a catboy who is so fucking orange. he/him

#tangerine posting #oc: tangerine #catboy #orange cat #cat furry #furry art #furry artist #art dump #all of these r by me btw :3

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fooled-around-and-fell · 6 months

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Marks

Summary: Tangerine is reminded of the times you got hurt because of him, and the guilt is eating him alive.

Genre: angst, fluff

warnings: scars, very little smut, p in v (wrap it before ya tap it)

a/n: welcome to the list, Tangerine 🧡

Masterlist

-----

Tan is finally home after a week of being gone. He's finally here, and not just the lingering smell of when he last slept next to you. He's here, holding you close to him as your skin touches his.

There's no urgency, no rush. He's telling you that he's home, and he's staying for a long, long time. He peppers kisses on your neck, nipping and almost leaving a hickey, but stops cause he knows you have to work tomorrow.

Surprisingly, you pull him closer, urging him to keep going.

"Babe?"

"I'll wear a turtle neck."

Chuckling, he happily obliges and begins sucking on your flesh, his thrusts getting rougher at the same time. "So sweet."

"Tan," you moan out his name, legs locking behind him when he hits that spot. His thrusts get more erratic, and when he feels you coming around him, he spills inside you. He moans when you're still squeezing him.

"I've missed you." You chuckle.

"Sweetheart, you've no idea." He kisses you before pulling out and getting a towel to clean you up.

He sees you lying down on your stomach, slowly falling asleep, and he smiles, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. But then he sees the scars you have, ones that you got because of him.

The scar on your hip from when someone sliced you with a knife because you tried to get away from their grip, the one from an explosion, and that other one from when someone broke into your home to get revenge on Tan.

Suddenly he feels more disgusted with himself rather than lucky. No, he's still lucky, lucky because, despite everything that happened, you're still with him. Why is that? What did he do to deserve this?

If anything, you deserve so much more. At the least someone whose job isn't going to endanger you. The fact that you keep getting hurt because of him... Tan's mouth goes dry, and he doesn't know what to do.

"Tan? What's wrong?"

He hears your soft, sleepy voice. How can someone so kind, so perfect, be so nice to him? How can someone like you like- no, love him?

But he's not about to pour out his worries onto you. Not when he knows you're just going to assure him it's not his fault and that you still love him. He doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that.

Without saying a word, he climbs into bed, spooning you. He's holding you extra tight, swearing to God that he's going to try his best to not let anyone hurt you ever again. Not even himself.

"I love you." He whispers.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and you mutter an "I love you too" before falling asleep.

-----

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling cold, and when you turn around to find Tan, you see him sitting on the bed instead, head in his hands.

"Tan?" You called out to him, caressing his back. "Everything okay?"

You know this happens -- it has happened before. Tan sometimes gets nightmares, and he'll just sit in silence for a while before returning to bed. He never wants to wake you.

"Y-yeah." He's taken aback. "Sorry, love, did I wake you?"

"No, not at all." You answer, searching for his eyes. "I was just cold."

"Did you have another nightmare?"

He doesn't answer but still accepts your invitation to go back to bed, burying his head in the crook of your neck and letting you cradle his figure.

He hugs your waist, and his grip tightens when he feels the scar on your hip. That's when you know what he's thinking about.

You kiss his forehead, "it's not your fault, Tan."

His jaw clenches and he buries his head deeper into your neck, if that's even possible. Tan doesn't answer, and you figure he must not want to talk about it.

Mindlessly, you start playing with his dark curls and suddenly you feel something wet against your skin. You realize Tan is crying.

"Hey." You pull away a little, wanting to look at him but he avoids your gaze, looking down like a kid in trouble. It's a little cute, you're not gonna lie. "Baby, look at me, please?"

Tan's scared. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to do. If he tells you he's sorry, does that seem like he's just saying it? If he says he won't let anyone hurt you ever again -- isn't that what he said last time? He doesn't want to give you empty promises but also doesn't want to let you go.

"Let me in that head of yours." You lift his head by his chin. "We're a team, remember? We figure things out together."

He really is the luckiest man in the world.

"I..." He starts. "I'm sorry, I can't promise people won't try to hurt you. All I can promise you is my best. I'll do my best to make you happy, keep you safe, and make sure you won't regret choosing me. And I can't thank you enough for that -- for choosing me. I don't know what I did to ever deserve you, but I will cherish and love you until the day I die. No, even after that. I'll love you in the afterlife."

"Your best and your love is more than enough." You kiss him deeply. "I love you, Tan. And though I know you won't listen to me when I tell you this, I'll tell you anyway; you did everything to deserve me, just as I deserve you."

Tan finally smiles a little. "I'm not perfect."

"And I never asked you to be. I don't need you to be perfect, and I don't want you to be. I'm not perfect either, but you know what? You love me anyway."

"And you love me anyway."

"Exactly," you smile. "These scars, I don't remember them as scars that hurt, I remember them as marks that show how much you mean to me, and how you've saved me every single time."

Tan pulls you to his chest, hugging you so tight you almost can't breathe. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tan."

#tangerine #bullet train tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x oc #tangerine x female reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine fluff #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine imagine #aaron taylor johnson characters

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kala-basaa · 2 months

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🎂🎉Surprise!~ 🎉🎂

🎶Happy birthday to you...~🎶

🧡❤️🤎

🎁 Happy Birthday Ian 🎁

#sdj #sunny day jack #sunny day jack fanart #swwsdj #art #sdj fanart #sunnydayjack #somethings wrong with sunny day jack #kalabasadraws #sunny day jack oc #mags #orangemarmalade #sdj ian #sdj oc #sunny day jack ian #something’s wrong with sunny day jack #happy birthday #lil tangerine

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stevesharrlngtons · 1 year

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a family affair.

tangerine x reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: there is an interloper in tan’s family and he doesn’t like it one bit.

or: tan really hates change.

an: as i said, in my atj era and couldn’t help wanting to write a lil something for tan (as that’s all the fanfic ive been reading lately lol) enjoy!

“All is well, my love,” you murmured comfort to Tan as your eyes roamed the plastic plated pub menu in front of you.

His fingers had been playing an angry tune on your waist for fifteen minutes, the solid gold of his rings battering your skin in a way that had started to smarten. He expelled ragged exhales through his nose every few moments, and with all his fidgeting next to you, you weren’t confident about the headspace he was in.

“I know that,” Tan replied in a cold clipped tone.

“Really? Because I can hear you grinding your teeth from here. Keep that up and when they get here, you’ll open your mouth to say hello and powder will puff out.”

“I won’t be sayin’ fuckin’ hello to ‘er.”

Your brow ticked and you took your eyes off the menu to turn to him, “you will absolutely be saying hello, and you will absolutely make conversation. We talked about this.”

“I know we talked about this,” he seethed and crouched low to your ear to say, “but I told ya then and I’ll tell ya now, I don’t got a best behavior.”

His free arm extended across the table as he shook the linked bracelet he wore back down on his wrist, his biceps flexing to test the already tired seams of his navy button down. The tension pulsing through him was palpable, you could sense his wound muscles and hear their screaming aches.

“Well, you better find one,” you said with a shrug, then returned your gaze to the tri-fold pages in front of you. The loud peeling the pages made as you pulled them apart effectively silence your boyfriend’s anxious knuckle cracking while his eyes burned into your profile. No matter how edge he was, you refused to give into his griping to ditch out on the evening and head home.

This evening at the pub was a night of much contention for Tan, and one he had hemmed and hawed about all week. He pulled out all the stops to get out of tonight, but to no avail. No “forgotten plans” or “last minute jobs” or “I just want to have a night in, just the two of us, love”’s would get him out of this, and deep down, you knew he knew that, too. Because tonight was for his brother, and he would do anything for him. Even this. Sometimes, he just needed a little reminding.

“I don’t bloody understand-“ you cut him off before he could continue.

“Because Lemon was extremely accepting of me, almost more so than you in the beginning may I add,” Tan’s grumbling continued, “so we are doing the same for him. He is your brother and you love him.”

His mustache twitched with discontent and you rolled your eyes.

“If she sucks, then we can talk shit about her all the way home, OK? But until then? She’s innocent until proven otherwise, and we’re giving her a chance.”

“Not wise to quote the legal system to me, love. If ya know one thing ‘bout me, it should be that I don’t give a rat's arse about that.”

“Well it’s not wise to be snippy with me, because it seems I am the only one holding this meeting together.”

You stood after your retort, Tan’s hand that had been resting on your waist fell to his lap. His face soured further at the action.

“Now excuse me while I go to the bar to order us a round. You keep scaring off all the waiters and we need to look friendly and warm when they get here. Beer and appetizers are how we are doing that.”

“Warm,” he scoffed, “I ain’t fuckin’ warm, darlin’.”

“Well,” you leaned back toward him and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple “you are for me.”

He blew out an unconvinced breath through his nose (but didn’t disagree) that left you laughing. You turned to make your way toward the bar before Tan stopped you.

“Just sy’know, if that bartender looks at your ass like he did when we were comin’ in? I’m takin’ his eyes out with a fuckin’ melon baller.”

“Best behavior, remember?” you sing-songed and walked away before he could respond. Though, you knew that his retort was no doubt a string of expletives.

After a good natured conversation with the bartender, whose flirty banter you were glad Tan could not overhear, you armed yourself with your purchased supplies and headed back toward the booth. With four glasses and a pitcher of lager held strategically in your hands, you were so focused on not letting anything slip from your grip, that you almost didn’t notice that your table had grown by two.

“Well look who's playin’ barmaid tonight,” Lemon exclaimed as he noticed you nearing the table.

He stood from his seat immediately to come to your aid, something you thanked him for profusely. He waved you off with a smile and placed his cheek to yours in greeting. You couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing a new aftershave, one that smelled similar to his brother’s, and that his face was clean shaven.

Once you two parted and had divided up the glasses and beer, you finally had a chance to peek at the evening's guest of honor.

“You must be the girlfriend,” you said cheerily, extending your hand, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Pin straight black hair acted as a curtain to reveal a pair of thick glasses and brown eyes as Lemon’s girlfriend turned to you. Her face was expressionless, bare of any makeup and smooth of any distinguishing emotional wrinkles. The turtleneck sweater she wore, thick and wool, was a deep purple and rose to the bottom of her jaw. Her gaze flicked over your form and then landed on your awaiting right hand.

“Likewise.” her tone was flat and disinterested, her handshake just the same.

Without even looking at Tan, you knew that the tips of his ears were turning red and his nostrils were flaring at the perceived slight made against you by this new woman. Respect was everything to him, and when not given to him, or worse, you? His blood began to boil.

“Rebecca this is (Y/N), and (Y/N) this is Rebecca.” Lemon introduced.

You looked back toward him once you had released Rebecca’s hand, the grin he offered was cheek splitting in its size. Your heart squeezed at his clear happiness. Only if his brother felt the same way.

“Well, it’s so awesome to finally meet you,” your tone was sweet and Rebecca’s face was disillusioned by your friendliness.

“Yeah, so awesome,” she barely controlled the eye roll you knew she was itching to complete.

You made your way to Tan’s side of the booth, who practically manhandled you back into the seat next to him, his arm lasoing you to his side. His large palm squeezed your hip tight in silent communication. One to say “I was right about this crazy bitch, and I’m going to lose my bloody mind”

You gently placed your hand over his and extended up to place a soft kiss to his jaw, your silent reply of “I’m right here. It’s ok, we’ve got this”

Tan only wished he could believe you.

His eye had begun to twitch seven minutes after Lemon and she arrived. The tension in his shoulders had reached a peak of almost unbearable pain and he swore he was about to crack a molar or burst a leak in his tongue by how hard his jaw was clenched.

The woman who accompanied Lemon tonight (yes, he was refusing to say the harpy’s name) was quite possibly the most vile and unpleasant woman he had ever met. That was certainly saying something too, as he was a contract killer and killed vile men and women on the daily. But this woman? The one Lemon was looking at with stars in his eyes? Somehow topped them all.

Pompous, arrogant, self righteous and shrill. He'd known her all of thirty minutes and he could already tell she was a pretentious martyr. Quite frankly, he thought she was a cunt.

And the worst part? The part that was really sending his anger into orbit? That both his brother and his girlfriend didn’t seem to notice. Well, Lemon didn’t seem to notice, you just didn’t seem to care.

You were a people person, you liked to talk to strangers on the subway, to census takers at the door and doctors office receptionists on the phone; you liked to make people smile, make them happy. You could also schmooze. You could say exactly what someone wanted to hear and pin the inner workings of people psyches and youtheir sore spots in the blink of an eye. While Tan needed to be in physical control, the looming threatening force in every room, you were happy to sidle up next to him and find out what made people tick. You were polar opposites and the perfect team. You were the sweet to his salty (and yes, he knew there was a joke about his namesake in there somewhere…) and the tamer of the wildfire that swarmed in his stomach.

Even as a sunny extrovert, you had your tells for when discomfort and nervous energy would start to creep in. And Tan? He knew every fucking one.

Your smile would grow just a little too wide, a hair toward painful and not so cheerful. You would start to nod in long intervals that would weigh on the side of awkward. You’d tap your fingernails together like Dolly Parton and trace the scar on your pinky that you got when you were eight, the repetition soothing to you.

And now, while Rebecca droned on about United Kingdom policy reform or… whatever drivel she was talking about, Tan could see all your tells in full swing.

And yet? You continued to engage the spider in friendly conversation while Lemon continued to giggle like a schoolgirl at her rubbish responses. She was lucky she hadn’t said anything outwardly offensive to either his brother or his love, because truly, Tangerine had no problem with putting a bullet between her eyes and every other patron in the bar so there were no witnesses of his execution of this terrible double date.

He knew you wouldn’t be happy about that, and Lemon decidedly less so, but you’d both get over it. You would place your hands on your hips and sigh (the way you always do when he got a little too murder-y outside of working hours) but Tan would grovel so nicely for you, kiss you tenderly and whisper sweet nothings in your ear and then happily do the same between your legs. And Lemon? He’d buy him a Guinness in a few days and ring his favorite call girl from London and things would be peachy once again for the three of you.

The three of you, his mind emphasized, just the way he liked it.

“Oi, mate,” Lemon said and he tipped his chin up toward his brother, effectively breaking Tan from his thoughts “did ya hear me? I said Becca went to Oxford and MIT in the states. She was at Oxford the same time we were in the area ‘bout five years ago, you ‘member that? What are the odds?”

Yes, Tan did remember. They were in Oxford to kill some geezer scientist who swore he had struck up an invention to turn water into gasoline. He and Lemon got a pretty penny for that job.

“Bloody rivetin’, it is,” Tan replied, sarcasm oozing out of his mouth.

“It’s like we really have been just one step apart our whole lives, aint it?” Lemon nudges Rebecca with his shoulder, which rocked her slightly in her seat. Her expression stayed stagnant.

Tangerine swallowed a long pull of beer before he replied, “Truly unfortunate you crossed paths now then, ‘innit? Could’a kept up the game of being strangers a while longer. Hell, maybe forever.”

Lemon’s eyes widen and Tan can tell it’s taking effort for his brother to not let his smile slip. He was feeling the four large beers he had consumed while suffering through the night. His composure and any hint of “best behavior” he’d had, had begun to slip away and fast. Combine that with your shared discomfort over this spider? He was ready to escalate this evening to deadly levels.

Until your soft hand crossed over Tan’s chest and rested on his left shoulder, your cheek moving to rest on his right. The reminder of your presence gave his fury pause, and when your lithe fingers broke the barrier of his unbuttoned shirt to dance across the skin of his collar bone he felt his racing heart slow.

With one simple touch, you proved you knew his own tells, too.

“Well, I may not be a ballet prodigy like this one,” you gestured to Rebecca, “but I have been watching people dance all night and I want to go join them.”

Ballet prodigy? When had the table learned that? Fucking hell, maybe he was drunker than he thought.

“What do you think, honey?”

Lemon responded before Tan had the chance.

“Yeah, y’know what? I think that would do us all some good,” he inhaled a deep breath through his nose, before he stood and pulled out Rebecca’s chair for her.

“Bar dancing. How very Footloose,” Rebecca drawls and took Lemon’s hand he was offering you.

“Oh bloody fuckin’ hell,” Tan shook his head with a scoff.

“OK, let’s go,” you huffed and hauled Tan up by his arm.

He left the booth without a fight and let himself be maneuvered through the sea of dancing pub patrons and drunken social groups. His head was on a swivel in an effort to keep his brother in his sights, but his bleach blonde mop soon was lost in the sea of people, likely what you were striving for. Soon, a gap appeared on the dance floor for the two of you to take residence in.

“Well, that was a god damned shit show, wasn’t it?” Tan said as his hands quickly found your waist and pulled you to his chest, “don’t wanna to say I told ya so, but…”

He pursed his lips smugly and you chuffed a laugh.

“You’re such a dick."

“Imma dick? Really? After we just sat with Margret fuckin’ cunty Thatcher for an hour?”

A boisterous laugh left you this time, an Tan felt his chest puff in pride at the sound.

“Y’know what? Two. Two I told ya so’s for tonight. For the best behavior bollocks, and the fact that that woman is in fact, a complete fuckin’ bitch.”

“Oh, she’s not that bad. She’s definitely a bitch and a bit cold, but she’s not horrible.”

Tan pulled you even closer as you both swayed gently to the old folk song that played from the jukebox. His eyebrows raised incredulously and his mustache shuffled under his nose.

“On a scale from not that bad to the fuckin’ spawn of satan, I’d say she’s broken the meter, love.”

“I thought you said it was a scale, not a meter?”

“Of fuck off, don’t get smart with me.”

You grinned, but began to relent, “OK, so she’s not the most,” you floundered for a word for a moment, “pleasant, but not everyone can be! There has to be sucky people so the best people can stick out.”

“Sucky? You’re going with sucky to describe the hag now?” his tone was baffled.

“You already called her a cunt. I didn’t feel it was necessary to repeat. She’s bad, but not a cunt times two.”

It was Tan’s turn to laugh, “You’re too sweet for your own good, ya know that?”

You made a sound in disagreement.

“Not too sweet, just trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she’s bad with new people? Fuck, maybe her only coping mechinism is superme levels of bitch, who knows.”

“I thought you were an expert on figuring out why people are the way they are?”

“Well, she’s a tough bitch to crack. I’ll get her, though. Eventually.”

A grin continued to stretch on Tan’s lips as he looked down at you, his hands still on your waist and your hands gently cupped the nape of his neck.

“But really, I wanted Lem to see us giving her a chance, alright? I wanted him to know we are giving her a fair shot, just like he gave us.”

“Wrong. Lemon loved ya the moment he met ya because you are fuckin’ wonderful darlin’, and he isn’t blind so he knew it. His little creature is nothing of the sort,” Tan shot back quickly.

He wouldn’t let you even entertain the idea that you and her were similar. Tan wasn’t even sure you two were born on the same planet.

“Still, she deserved a fair chance. I didn’t want him to think that you were going to go all sterile soldier on him and reject her before we even got to know her.”

Tan rolled his eyes at the nickname. It had been given by Lemon the very first time his brother realized how adverse he was to emotions and change. You weren’t lying when you said that Lemon had been more welcoming than Tan had been in the beginning of your relationship. He didn’t like change. He liked things the way they were: him and Lemon, the way it was supposed to always be. Meeting you? That fucked everything up. You were the gorgeous cog in the carefully organized assembly that was his life. It took him longer than he cared to remember, or admit, to realize that maybe he liked his life a hell’uve a lot better with an intruder like you in it. You were what his well oiled machine was missing.

“It ain’t that, love,” he replied and pulled you closer. His chin went to rest on the crown of your head and he inhaled your floral shampoo.

“Maybe it was a little, though?” you asked against the skin of his throat, and Tan didn’t have to respond for you to know the answer.

Of course it was that. Rebecca being a slag only worked to solidify her as public enemy number one, but she had secured that placement before Tangerine even knew her name. She had the ability to cause a rift in his life- the ability to take his brother and the comfort Tan found in him- and he just couldn’t have that.

“You know how I am,” was all he said in return, and you did know.

“I do… which is why I am proud of you, baby,” you pulled away enough to meet his gaze, “because four years ago, you wouldn’t have even entertained this night. But look at you now.”

Your smile thawed him further, though the compliment made him feel awkward.

“So what? Ya sayin’ you fixed me?”

“Nah,” you moved your hands to frame his cheeks, “just shaped you up a little.”

Tan shook his head at your words and did his best to not be charmed by them, but to no avail.

“See? Too fuckin' sweet. If I were watchin’ us, I’d fuckin’ retch.”

Your lips met his a moment later, and your sickening display of affection continued to onlookers. And Tan didn't give one flying fuck. With the taste of your lips on his and your plush body pressed to his front, the only worry he had was if he could shuffle you to the bathroom in time to fuck you the way he needed to.

“But really,” you pulled away abruptly (far too soon) (much to his and his cock's annoyance), “Me, sweet? C'mon, I mean I can be… but listen if Rebecca had said one bad word about you at that table? I would have jumped across it and ripped a chunk of her hair out. No holds barred, the gloves would be off, baby.”

It was Tan’s turn to laugh, full and hearty. And hell, maybe even a little warm.

“S’my girl.”

Then he took your hand from his face and rose it above your head to spin you in a wild circle like a music box doll. Your sequel of joy was music to his ears. When he was finished with his expert twirling he pulled you firmly back to his chest. Tan wasted no time to let you catch your breath or recenter yourself in the still world before his mouth was on yours again, picking up right where you left off moments ago.

As he devoured you with his kiss and groped your body up just the way he liked, he slowly started to forget the terrible start this evening had.

Tomorrow, he’d talk to Lemon to smooth things over. Fuck, maybe even ask about the spider and how his brother was doing in the relationship, even if it pained him to think about. Sure, he was doing his best to be more in touch with his “emotions”, but the thought of a full heart to heart with Lemon did make his stomach queasy.

He’d have to decide what he needed to do in the end, but for right now with you in his arms and the promise of a hot night ahead, the discomfort of what was to come didn’t seem so bad.

well, i hope you liked it! (: not my favorite thing i've ever written, but i just really wanted to start writing fics again!! lemme know if you want some more atj stories and if you enjoyed this, i'd love to hear it with a reblog, comment or like <3

#i have two other fic ideas so theres that lmao #tangerine x reader #tangerine x oc #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #bullet train fanfic #bullet train fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine bullet train #stevesharrlngtons writes

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